The Bells Are Ringing
by penandpaper67
Summary: Holden's been in for one helluva night, but he's still got a long way to go. One-shot that takes place between chapters 23 and 24. Rated T for safety and any edits I might do in the future.


**A/N: This is something I wrote two years ago for English class. I don't think I like it all that much now, but I posted it anyway. Please let me know what you think! Obviously it's meant to be a "missing chapter" between 23 and 24.**

_Chapter 23.5: The Bells Are Ringing_

I knew I should have gone to Mr. Antolini's right away because he was waiting for me and all, but I decided there was one thing I had to do before I left. I walked slowly down the street because I wasn't feeling too great. I was really dizzy and my nose was running like mad. I had to stop about fifty times to make sure that I wasn't going to pass out or vomit or something. I really felt like I was going to vomit. I didn't want to though. It's disgusting when someone just vomits on the street or in school or something. When I was in about third grade, this kid named Kenny Jenkins vomited all over my shoes. It was on purpose, I think. That little bastard really hated me. I got really mad and wanted to sock him, but I was too yellow. He was a big little bastard.

I sat down on this bench for a minute, on account of my feeling so sick and all. There was this store next to me that was really Christmasy. I mean a lot of the stores were decorated for the holidays, but I swear this store owner went crazy. It was a little shop that sold pocket watches. What pocket watches have to do with Christmas, I have no idea. The light was still on, which was pretty strange, because it was late. I mean it was late for a small store like that to still be open. I looked through the window, to see if there was anyone inside.

An old man stood at the front counter, polishing watches. He had on these really gigantic glasses and this bright red sweater. He looked pretty lonely there, just polishing his pocket watches. I pushed on the door and it made a nice little tinkling noise. I looked up and saw this terrific jingle bell attached to the door. It was a pretty thing, all gold with a green and red ribbon attached to it. If the old man hadn't been there, I probably would have reached up and taken it, I liked it so much. I really would've.

"We're closed, I'm sorry," the man said, looking at me through his glasses. His voice was deep and gruff, like he had a really bad cough.

"I was just looking in," I said. "I really like your bell."

"Yes, I do too," he rasped. "You look a little young to be out this late. Shouldn't you be at home, kid? With your family? Christmas is in a couple of days."

"Aren't you a little old to be out this late?" I joked.

He chuckled. "Good one. Go home, kid."

I started to go out the door, and took one last look at his little bell. He probably saw me because he said, "You can have that bell if you want. It gave me good luck. Maybe it'll give you some too."

"Thanks," I said as I reached up and untied the bell. I didn't really believe what he said about good luck and all, but it made a nice sound. I thought I might give it to Phoebe to make up for the record. She would like it a lot. When I got outside, I put the little bell in my pocket. It made a jingling noise when I walked that you could hear for miles. It made me a little nervous. I kept thinking that Maurice, that elevator guy, was going to hear it and come and find me. I kept looking behind me, but he wasn't there. Nobody was. You could see well enough because the street was pretty bright with all of the lights, but you couldn't see down the dark alleyways. That scared me. It made me feel like I was alone with all of the monsters of the world, except they were hiding from me. And they were all crammed into the dark alleyways, just waiting for me to make a mistake.

I ran the rest of the way, and closed myself in the telephone booth, because that's where I was going in the first place. I was breathing pretty hard. I was completely winded, even though I had only run a couple of blocks. I really wanted a cigarette, but then I remembered I was out, so I just settled with dialing the number. I had finally decided to give old Jane a buzz. It was late, but I couldn't think straight and I really needed to talk to her. I knew the number by heart. I used to call her all the time.

After about a million rings, somebody finally picked up the phone. "What the hell ya' want?" It was that booze hound I was telling you about. He was stinking drunk. You could tell.

"Is Jane there, by any chance?"

"Why the hell ya' wanna talk to her?" I could almost smell his stinking breath over the phone.

"Can you just put Jane on? It's really important," I said, polite as hell.

In the background a heard a couple of muffled voices, but I couldn't really make out what they were saying. There was a little buzzing over the line and then a small voice came on.

"Hello? Who is this? Are you still there?" It was Jane. I'd know her voice anywhere.

"Jane? This is Holden. Holden Caulfield."

"Holden! I can't believe it! Is it really you? Where are you? Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"I'm in New York. And yeah, I am. I got kicked out," I said quietly. I knew Jane wouldn't care about that stuff. She'd understand.

"Oh, Holden! Are you alright? I can't talk long, my mom doesn't like me to be on the phone this late."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Jane had a tendency to worry about me. "How was your date? With Stradlater? And how are you?"

"The date was fine, but we didn't really do anything. I'm…not good. I don't want to worry you with this, Holden."

"No, tell me, Jane. What's wrong?"

"It's…It's my step-dad. He wants us to move to California. That's where he grew up and he said it's much better than here. When I told him I was perfectly happy here, he wouldn't listen. I don't even know why my mom married him in the first place. He spends all of our money on alcohol and cigarettes and now I don't know how we're going to afford anything. Especially a house in California. Holden… I think we might end up on the streets or in a ratty old apartment or something and he won't even get a job. I just hate it!"

I didn't know what to say. You could tell she was crying because she was breathing harder than normal and her voice was cracking. When girls cry, it's better not to say anything. "I don't know what I can do, Jane. I really don't. But we'll find some way out of it, we will…"

"Some way out of it? That's what you always try to do Holden. Find some way out of it or around it or something like that. But you know what? I need to face it. You need to face it." Then she hung up. I haven't heard from her since.

I felt really depressed after that. I started walking. I didn't care where; I just had to get away. I had this knot in my stomach that kept getting tighter and tighter as I walked. That bell kept jingling in my pocket, and it was giving me a headache. I felt dizzy again too.

What seemed like fifty hours later, I stood in front of my apartment building. I didn't even realize where I was going until I got there. I was crying again. I really didn't like what was happening to Jane, and that booze hound of a step-father would pay. I was worried that something worse than what she said was going on.

I couldn't stop crying. I was really lonely all of a sudden. I wanted to scream. I had an urge to yell my head off until everyone in the world heard me and took notice. Especially Jane. She didn't need to put up with that bastard. She should run away or… I tried to calm down and stop the rivers that were running from my eyes. I decided that once I stopped blubbering I would go to Mr. Antolini's. He would probably be worried that I hadn't come yet. I sat down and realized I was tired. I really hadn't gotten much sleep over the past couple of days and I needed a lie down.

After what seemed like forever, I finally got up and brushed myself off. I was feeling really depressed at that point. I almost wished I was dead, but I knew that Jane needed me and I'd have to stay alive until everything was better. I took a step forward and heard that goddam bell again. I picked it up out of my pocket and flung it across the street, where it lay all bent and broken on the other side. Then I remembered who I was planning to give it to and felt even worse.


End file.
